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Trials and Tribunalations
The law embodies the story of a nation's development through many centuries, and it cannot be dealt with as if it contained only the axioms and corollaries of a book of mathematics. ~ Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., The Common Law 'Temple of the White Dragon ' ---- ::Of all the holy ground that has ever been established in the Empire of Fastheld, the simplistic nature of the Temple of the White Dragon may well make it one of the most immaculate of them all. It consists of an inner and an outer chamber, with two thirds of the overall dimensions of the monument building belonging to the interior area. It is directly connected to Dawnstar Keep at the southern end, with a projecting "H" of columns forming the entrance in the middle of the eastern side. ::The inner chamber of the temple is thirty meters long by twenty meters wide, with internal marble colonnades in two tiers, structurally necessary to support the roof. On the exterior, the columns measure two meters in diameter and are ten meters high. The corner columns are slightly larger in diameter. In total, the temple features forty-six outer pillars and nineteen inner pillars in total. The top step of the stepped platform upon which colonnades of the temple columns are placed has an upward curvature towards its center of three inches on the east and west ends, and of four inches on the sides. The roof is covered with large overlapping marble tiles. ::Inside the temple, the arsenic-shade of stone is blanketed with golden-timber panels and beams, while the floor consists of black, reflective marble tiles. The contrast between black and gold is nothing if not spectacular. A vast stained-glass window, a semi-circle in shape, rests flush against the western wall, depicting a rising sun in an azure dawn over a landscape of emerald, jade, and viridian. Though most of the inner chamber remains as open hall space, various rooms surrounding the chamber provide areas for lodging and storage for the various Paladins and Clerics of the Order of the White Dragon to use as required. Training is often done in the separate area of the inner chamber, segregated from the mail hall of worship. ::It is in that hall of worship that the temple's greatest artifact remains: set into the black marble floor of the main inner chamber, cast in radiant argentite, rests the insignia of the Order of the White Dragon - an abstract dragon, depicting the light as a creature that is less a living entity than a real force of nature. The collision of these two themes is at once both a testament to the True Light itself, and the dragoness who acts as an agent of the Light: Sara'tharalax. ---- Against the golden-timber panels and beams, the obsidian marble floor, and the bone-white armor of the Ordinators of the Imperial Cult going about their business in the Temple of the White Dragon, the Crimson Half-Plate of the Imperial Tribunal looks almost out of place. It is, if nothing else, in the minority when it comes to color, yet still manages to stand out like a gemstone amidst other precious stones all the same, perhaps in part due to the quality of the steel itself, and the equal quality and steel of the Prince that wears it. Suffice to say that Serath Kahar is, once again, not all that difficult to locate within the monument building of the Temple, if one happens to have a general idea of where to find him. Located within the inner chamber, the Prince stands alone at the base of the argentite dragon that sleeps within the black marble floor, looking upon the expansive artistic insignia, expressionless in mood and visage. Taran steps into the hall rather gingerly, his staff resting against his shoulder rather than serving as a walking-staff as it normally does. There is an air of trepidation, of wary unbelonging, as if the man half-expects to be shown the door by someone. "Your majesty?" he asks carefully, trying not to startle. "I have...news. Or at least something. If I may ask advice?" "I wonder if this sends out the wrong message," Serath answers; an answer not to the offered question, but to something entirely different. His gaze remains upon the expansive argentite that stretches out before him, almost like a shadow of white. Almost like the shadow of a dragon. "Yet, is such a message a bad thing, when one compares it to the alternative? The toil and work of the Church of True Light, proclaiming the Light as something as vengeful as it is intangible. Do what we say, or else the Light will punish you." He sighs at that, his expression remaining as unreadable as his voice is contemplative. "Instead, we present the Light as something that people can personify and depict. Something that is more comforting than attempting to imagine a bright and expansive light. Something they can envision protecting them from all the evils of the Empire." A few moments of silence interject themselves at this point, followed by a more familiar purr of warmth than the pondering previous permitted. "Trouble at the farm?" he quips. "Few people find dragons of any color a comforting thought, your majesty," Taran replies. "And only you know anything of the white one." He shrugs, one-shouldered. "I have Gale's letters, Majesty - her evidence of a plot among some of the Sunkissed. Considering the source, I do not say it must all be true, but at the same time I do not think it can be entirely discounted. As many of the names involved are of the nobility..." he blows out a breath. "I am aware it sounds incredible to think a murderess might have a point. So I seek advice, if you have the time." A mirthless smile caresses the Princes visage in the wake of that offering. "More letters," he sighs, finally turning to regard the taller Freelander. "Very well then, let's see what *these* ones have to say." Taran makes a face at that. "I am fairly sure that while I do want to know, I would come to regret asking," he says. His pack is slipped off his shoulder, and from it a pouch taken. And from the pouch...a small but quite respectable pile of letters. "This is what she gave to me. I had thought first to see if there was any way to investigate those implicated to see if there is any truth here at all, but after my visit to the Tribunal I thought perhaps it would be a good idea to speak to you *well* in advance, this time." The Prince wordlessly accepts the letters, proceeding to read over them one at a time. A process that no doubt presents a few minutes of awkward silence as those etheral blue eyes read over the written words of lesser Nobles. Taran just lowers the staff - gently, so as not to cause an echo - to the floor, and leans upon it as he waits for the decision, or questions, or whatever might come next. "Eldin Mikin." Serath speaks the names, the tone in which he offers them indicating no familiarity with them at all. "Reina Seamel. I suspect this Tevial is a Seamel as well. And here we have a Freelander, probably a farm hand. Alainne Woodsong. Well now. The plot thickens." Taran nods. "Gale said that she found some of these letters on Anny's body. Along the riverbanks, with her tongue cut out. I do not know how much to credit that, but I do know Gale had nothing to do with the attack on Woodsong." "So Kess Kahar is attacked, and the Reina Seamel is murdered," the Prince concludes, his voice quiet as he recalls various incident reports and circulating news and rumors, tapping the letters with the back of the fingers of his right hand as holds them in his left. "In retaliation, Eldin Mikin and this Teivel "Seamel" -- we assume from his reference of "little sister" -- decided to take matters into their own hands, seeking revenge while attempting to fuel an anti-Mage agenda." He pauses, looking up from the letters to Taran once more. "On one side we have Eldin and Teivel in the midst of treason, and on the other we have an unmarked mage taking it upon herself to enact vigilante justice as she deems fit. Sound about right?" Taran nods. "I do not present this to you in a bid for clemency for Gale," says Taran quietly. "She did torture, and kill. I regard this as a separate matter, if these letters are true. But I do not know what the wisest thing to do about it would be." "Well," Serath purrs, mostly as filler as he constructs a plan of action, "It seems like Eldin and Teivel and friends are attempted to negate the Shadow Amnesty policy; a policy that just so happens to have been the conception of a certain Prince of the Blood with whom you might be familiar. That makes it personal." He pauses, lowers the letters, and then smiles a devious smile indeed. That those ethereal blue eyes of his harbor a light of mischief within them doesn't bode well for certain Nobles. "I'll have them both arrested on charges of treason. If they're stupid enough to write letters to each other, I suspect the Tribunal will find more than enough evidence of guilt. Conspiracies take a certain amount of clandestine guile, and writing letters and then signing your name on means they really should have involved a Zahir." Taran laughs a bit at that. "So I should perhaps sit back and wait, then?" he asks. "That would be a nice change." The incline of Serath's head lends affirmation in answer to that question. "Treason charges are rare, but there's one of the few things that the Tribunal gets personally involved with. I'm fairly sure that actively working against the Imperial Law while attempting to cause dissent within the Empire qualifies as treason." Taran blows out a breath. "Then that answers me," he says, relieved. "Thank you; at least something ends...well." "That still leaves Gale Frostwind, however, and the Arbiter," Serath adds, not wanting to steal the thunder from the moment, but keeping things in perspective all the same. He takes a moment to look *around* Taran to where Savantis Kahar is stood, and then looks back upon the bard with an expression of thought. "I'll assign an Ordinator to you to help with the former, if don't mind the company. As for the latter, the Tribunal will most likely end up pushing for the hearing at the end of it all. The mounting evidence of... inelegance, shall we say... is pretty damaging for the Tribunal. The height of her fall is all that remains in question, but I'll do my best to catch her all the same." "Gale will turn herself in Tuesday, or so she says," says Taran quietly. "But she does not wish to see Tribunal justice and plans to escape before reaching Light's Reach. Seeing to it that she does not might serve to save some of the Arbiter's lost face." Serath can't help but laugh at the twisted logic inherent within that plan. "So, what you're telling me is that Gale plans to turn herself in, but doesn't actually plan to turn herself in?" "She wishes to save a little trouble for the Arbiter," Taran nods. "But not to actually die." "I take it that bringing Gale to justice via more nefarious means is somewhat less clear cut than I make it sound, too?" the Prince inquires, his tone suggesting he knew the answer before he asked the question. Taran shakes his head. "If you wish me to bring her in tonight or tomorrow, I will do my best." Serath considers that for a moment, folding his arms against his armored chest in the process; crimson steel upon black leather upon platinum ringmail. The letters remain is his gauntleted left hand all the while. "I don't think these things can have a time limit, so to speak," he admits, adopting a pragmatic stance. "Such constraints are unrealistic when so many variables are at play. Admittedly there are a number of options available, but these things require a delicate touch, and sending a legion of Imperial Watch officers is unlikely to do more good than harm." "I'll leave in your hands," he continues. "If things work out, then that's how they'll work out. If not, then perhaps events will unfold as the Light dictates on a far grander scheme than we're able to comprehend. Or maybe they'll just become too complicated to handle. Whatever works to explain the ultimate outcome." Taran laughs quietly at that. "Perhaps in knowing what she *tried* to do will be done, she will be less reluctant to let go. I do not know. But I will perhaps find out." "Time will tell," Serath offers, before leaving things at that. "So," the Prince then purrs, nodding to Taran's arm, "Still broken?" Taran blinks. "Yes," he says, surprised. "It should be some weeks yet before I can remove this." The Prince considers that for a moment. "A clean break, do you know, or a fracture?" "Fracture," Taran replies, still at a loss for where this is going. "Flat of the sword, at an angle. It is bound up well, however... it should heal all right." "Ah," Serath concludes, sounding a little disappointed. "If it were a clean break, I could have resolved that particular inconvenience for you," he explains, looking from the arm and meeting Taran's gaze once more. "However, fractures are the ones that are a little more complicated. As I stated before, the Light has a habit of going a little overkill in regards to the healing process. I could still repair it, but it'd be exceptionally stiff and rigid for weeks, and by the time you had it back to normal... well, your arm would have healed by itself by then anyway." Taran nods. "...I would hate to deny my sister a legitimate reason to fuss over me, in any event, your majesty," he says. "She has quite enough competition as it is for such healings. And...perhaps I need it as a reminder that plans go awry." "In any case, I'll see about giving the Tribunal something to get excited over, and I'll try and recruit a suitably nonchalant Ordinator to follow you around for a while in the process," the Prince of the Blood decide, offering a conclusion to the conversation and meeting. "I'll have them drop by the Dragon's Hoard by the end of the day. They shouldn't be too difficult to spot, what with the bone-white armor and all." Taran lip quirks. "No, not difficult at all," he says. "I will do what I may, then. Perhaps see to it that the surrender does not end in an escape, or if it does, then not for long." He looks ceiling ward, thinking. "A day. Mmm. Not so very long at all..." ---- ''Return to Season 6 (2007) Category:Logs